


To Hell and Back

by mgrbienvenu



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Arranged Marriage, F/F, Fantasy, Prophecy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 13:22:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17122166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mgrbienvenu/pseuds/mgrbienvenu
Summary: Fantine was prophesied as an infant to one day marry one of the king's children. Hoping to prevent this, the king sends Fantine on a quest to steal three hairs from the devil's head. If she succeeds, she will marry the king's bastard daughter Favourite. If she fails, she will be executed for attempting to disgrace the royal bloodline. Based (somewhat loosely) on the Grimm's fairytale The Devil with the Three Golden Hairs.





	To Hell and Back

**Author's Note:**

  * For [briarcreature](https://archiveofourown.org/users/briarcreature/gifts).



There was once a poor couple who lived in the country. Having little food and less money, when they gave birth to their first baby girl, they were devastated. For months they saved every scrap they could for their child, but the situation became unbearable. To their dismay, there were no other options but to give up their child.

Weeping all the way, the mother and father took the baby down to the river, and set her afloat in a basket. They would never see her again.

Hearing the child’s cries as the water rocked the basket, the nymphs of the river came to investigate. They took pity on her, and each of the three nymphs bestowed on her a blessing, each in turn attempting to outdo the other. The first nymph wished that the baby would grow up safe and happy. The second wished that she would be unmatched in her beauty. The third wished that she would marry the king’s child. Pleased by their generosity, the nymphs floated the basket to the banks on the side of an old mill, disappearing back to the depths. They did not notice a maid from the castle washing clothes by the banks, who had heard everything.

The maid rushed back to the castle to tell the king of the nymphs’ blessings and the child in the river. The king listened with alarm, and realized he must find a way to prevent a poor girl from ever becoming a member of the noble family. It would be a disgrace to the crown for an orphan to become a princess, after all.

Luckily for the child, before any harm could come to her from the crown, a miller’s boy noticed the basket and pulled it from the water with a hook. He opened it, hoping to find some valuable goods. Instead, he found the fresh-faced baby, with red cheeks and blue eyes.

He brought the child to the miller and his wife, who rejoiced, as they had always wanted a daughter but were too old to bear their own. They named her Fantine. True to the nymphs’ blessings, she grew to be safe at the mill and remarkably beautiful.

It so happened that one day, when the girl was scarce eighteen years old, a royal official came to inspect the mill and collect taxes. Noticing the beautiful girl, he asked the miller and his wife about her.

“She’s very lovely,” said the official. “But she does not resemble either of you.”

“She’s not actually our own,” they said. “When she was a baby our working boy found her in the river.”

His curiosity piqued, the official pressed further. “How unusual! And she was unharmed?”

“Completely,” they replied. “Little harm ever comes to her; she must be protected by God.”

The official remembered the castle maid’s tale. Thinking quickly, he pulled out the book with which he wrote his inspections, and drafted a letter to the queen, for the king was away visiting foreign royals. He alerted her that he may have found the blessed child. He knew that the girl must be brought to the capital and killed so that she would never soil the blood of the royal family. Having written the letter, he asked the couple to instruct young Fantine to bring the letter to the castle, as he had further inspections to carry out. They agreed.

Fantine, who could not read the letter, was excited at her important task, and set out. However, she was a dream-filled girl, and lost her way in the woods quickly. To her luck, she eventually spied an old cottage with a candle burning in the window. She knocked on the door, and an old woman answered.

“Please, ma’am, may I sleep here for the night? I’ve become lost on my way to the castle, and have nowhere to stay.”

The old woman was charmed by the lovely girl, and granted her permission. As they warmed themselves by the fire, she asked Fantine what business she had going there.

“I’m to deliver a letter,” Fantine said proudly. “To the queen herself! It’s official business, I think.”

“A rural girl like you, delivering a letter to the queen! How exciting. May I read it?”

“Of course! Only do tell me what it says, I’m ever so curious.”

Opening the letter, the woman was alarmed at what she read. “Girl, you are in serious danger! But do not worry, sweet one, I have a plan.”

The old woman wrote a new letter. She addressed it as being from the king, and wrote that Fantine was a noble and righteous girl who had earned his favor. As an extra token of her good wishes to Fantine, she added that the king wished for the girl to be wed to one of his children.

Fantine set out the next morning, bringing the letter to the castle. The queen read it, and knew she would be punished if she disobeyed her royal husband. However, she was a horribly jealous woman, and did not wish to see Fantine married to one of her own children. Instead, she arranged for the girl to be engaged to the king’s bastard daughter.

Fantine, nervous but full of hope at meeting the girl meant to be her wife, was lead to the dirty outskirts of the city, where the bastard daughter lived. Fantine was shocked to see the dirty and rundown building, but knocked on the door.

A young woman, perhaps a few years older than Fantine herself, opened the door, looking warily at the palace official who led Fantine there. She was undeniably pretty, with rich brown curls and pouty red lips. She visibly started when she saw Fantine, then beckoned her inside, shutting the door quickly before the official might come in as well. 

The two women stared at each other for a moment. Fantine blushed and shifted awkwardly on her feet, while the other woman watched her carefully and warily. As the silence grew increasingly heavy, and Fantine came close to despairing her betrothed would not love her, the woman finally spoke.

“So.”

“So?”

The woman cocked her head. “So. My father’s wife says we’re to be wed.”

“Ah, yes. I was quite surprised.”

The woman pursed her lips. “Do you want this?”

Fantine looked away. “I’ve always wanted to be a bride.”

“I never have. But it can’t be helped now, can it? Though you’re much more beautiful than some others I’ve been with, at least.”

Fantine blushed harder, quickly glancing at the woman before her eyes returned to the floor. There was another pause, before Fantine dared to say, “I still don’t know your name. We ought to start with that, no?”

“It’s Favourite.”

Fantine met her eyes. “How unusual! It’s very lovely.”

Favourite scoffed, and turned away. “It’s a cruel joke. My father ignores me, his wife hates me, and english being her first tongue she thought it would be funny to name me their favourite. What about you? They didn’t tell me your name.”

“It’s Fantine,” she said.

Favourite laughed. “And you say my name is unusual! Where does one even get a name like that?”

“It’s not what my parents named me. I don’t have any parents. But the couple at the mill that raised me called me that, childish, for they found me as a baby and I was such a lively child.”

“Wait. No parents? Raised at a mill? That sounds like quite a story.”

Fantine, feeling encouraged, told Favourite as much as she knew about her life and upbringing, up until the moment she came through her door.

“And now I’m here!” she finished.

Favourite fixed her with a strange smile. “And now you’re here.”

The two women managed to find some semblance of a domestic peace for few weeks. Fantine took quickly to city life, and Favourite was amused to show her about town and give the naïve girl her wisdom. Favourite found Fantine work as a tailor’s assistant, and their combined income allowed both to experience a few material comforts for the first time.

The peace was broken when the king returned to the country. His wife told him of all that had come to pass while he was gone, including the betrothal of the country girl to his daughter, as his letter had instructed. Realizing the nymphs’ prophecy had been fulfilled, he was enraged, and demanded to know how this had come to pass. The queen brought to him the letter she received, and the king believed Fantine had played a horrible trick to disgrace the crown and advance her social station.

He came to the women’s home, banging on the door until Favourite let him in. They glared at each other while politely nodding. Fantine then entered the room, and the full force of the king’s anger was turned on her.

“Wicked, wicked girl! Deceitful wench! You came to disgrace my family by wedding another disgrace. You thought you could trick me! You will not have everything go your way.”

Fantine was too shocked to reply, only quivering and shaking her head.

The king drew himself up to his full height. “Fine. As you’re so stubborn, I’ll give you one solution. Whoever wants to marry my daughter must descend to hell to fetch me three golden hairs from the devil’s own head.” Thinking himself clever for challenging Fantine to such an impossible task, he added, “Do this, and you shall have a royal wedding with a grand feast. Fail in this, and I’ll show you no mercy.” He then left.

Fantine collapsed into the nearest chair, tears coming quickly. “Dear God,” she wept. “Dear God!”

Favourite kneeled to Fantine’s level, awkwardly cupping her hand on the other woman’s cheek. She was unused to comforting other people, but gave a noble effort. Fantine sniffled and leaned her head into Favourite’s hand, appreciating the attempt.

After Fantine’s tears began to dry, and she slumped back in her seat, Favourite carefully asked, “So what will you do?”

Fantine screwed her eyes shut. “What can be done? I have no other option.”

“You can’t mean…”

She gave a weak smile. “I suppose I can brave the devil, anyway.”

The women looked at each other deep in the eyes, each searching for something more to say, and finding nothing, pulled each other into a tight embrace.

***

A few days later, Fantine was packing bags for the journey ahead. Favourite sat on the bed, watching her. Her face fell slowly. She stood.

Favourite brought another bag from the other room, and began packing more food and some of her own clothes.

Fantine stared. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like? I’m packing.”

“But why?”

“Really? What do you think?”

“You’ll come with me?” 

Favourite shrugged, then tilted her head and smiled. “I’ve always hated this city, anyway. It’d be good to have a change.”

***

The pair set out the next morning. Neither knew where to find the entrance to hell, but Favourite said she knew of a man who could direct them.

It was a long walk through the woods to reach this man, and after travelling all day, the women found a village they hoped to rest in for the night.

“Excuse me, sir,” Favourite said, catching the attention of a villager on the street. “Where is the nearest inn?”

The man paused, and seeing the women’s cheap and dirty clothes, frowned. “There’s only one inn in this town,” he said, “and I’m not sure if you could afford it.”

Favourite looked annoyed. “It can’t be that expensive. We’ll pay somehow.”

“Go down to the end of this road, then turn left,” the man shrugged.

“Thank you!” Fantine called back politely as Favourite grasped her hand and led her off.

The inn was small and narrow, with two stories and a stable attached, and looked run-down. Despite this, many laughing, singing, and shouting voices could be heard from inside.

Favourite stepped in first, with Fantine following her closely. The main room was as busy as it sounded, crowded with men drinking and clamouring for more food. Fantine looked and felt sorely out of place, and held Favourite’s hand tighter. As the women looked about the room for the innkeeper, a large and imposing woman approached them. She looked at them for several seconds, both examining them and waiting for them to say something.

“We’re looking for a place to stay the night,” said Fantine. “Do you know where we can find the innkeeper?”

“I’m the innkeeper. You can pay?”

“How much?” asked Favourite. 

The innkeeper’s eyes narrowed, and she tilted her head back. “Six silver pieces. Upfront.”

“That’s extortionate!”

“Favourite, we’ve nowhere else to go. We have to pay.” said Fantine.

Favourite glared at the innkeeper and pulled the money from her purse.

The innkeeper took it. “Take a seat wherever you like, I’ll bring you some food.”

They sat at a table crammed into the far corner of the room, as far as possible from the other drunken patrons.

As Fantine rubbed her hands together to warm them, Favourite leaned back in her seat. She looked about the room, but her eyes came back to Fantine. Slowly noticing this, Fantine looked back curiously.

“What is it? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“The way your hair looks in the firelight. It’s almost glowing. Like burnished gold.”

Fantine blushed. “Thank you.”

“It’s not just a compliment. My father asked for three golden hairs. Yours might suffice.”

“I could never! It would be dishonest.”

“Fantine, the man asked you to go to hell! If he can demand such an evil thing, why should you be obligated to be good to him? It’s no major sin.”

She looked uncomfortable. “I won’t do it. Even if he doesn’t know the difference, I will. I don’t like to lie.”

“You’d rather do something unnecessarily difficult and dangerous than lie to a horrid old man who wants you dead.”

“It’s not just me that’s taking this risk. You decided to come along.”

Favourite jutted her chin out and looked Fantine squarely in the face. “You really don’t understand, do you?”

Fantine was about to reply when the innkeeper came to the table with two bowls of a fragrant brown stew.

“There you are. Here’s food for you,” she said, setting the bowls down by each of them.

“Thank you,” said Fantine.

Rather than accepting her thanks and leaving, the woman looked back and forth at them, pursing her lips. She sat down beside Favourite.

“You two seem different than my regular clientele. I’ve never seen you about these parts before.”

“We’ve come from the capital.” said Fantine.

The woman frowned. “Why would you leave for a village like this, then? People from the capital don’t usually stray far.”

“We’re on a quest,” Favourite swung around to glare at Fantine, willing her not to continue, but Fantine ignored her. “I’m to descend to hell and steal from the devil.”

The innkeeper looked at her incredulously. “Well! That’s certainly something.”

Fantine nodded, encouraged. “We’ll pluck three hairs from his head and bring them to the king. But we don’t know the way to hell, so we’re visiting a man nearby who will help us. I hope it will work out.”

The woman was silent for a moment, then slowly began to smile. “Perhaps,” she said, “if you’re meeting the devil already, you could find a way to the horrible curse he’s put on me and the rest of the village?”

Favourite crossed her arms, and Fantine’s eyes widened. “A curse? How horrible! What is it?”

The woman moaned dramatically. “Ah, it’s horrible! Too horrible! There are three curses, in fact. The first to occur was a shock. Behind my home, far in the woods, there was a spring, you see. It supplied my inn. But it wasn’t a spring of water; instead, the most pristine wine poured out. It devastated my business to have lost it.”

“Looking at how busy this place is, your business looks fine to me.” Favourite said.

The innkeeper glared at her, then continued. “And that’s not all. I once had an apple tree in my garden that produced golden apples. Now it produces no fruit at all; the leaves are brown; it’s dying. And one more thing! I’ve always been a good mother to my children, only giving them the best clothes and food and ensuring they’re all in perfect health. But now their clothes have all fallen to rags, no matter how I mend them, and they cough and cry all day. I implore you, on your quest, do find a way to return to me what I had.”

Fantine’s eyes grew wider, and she reached out to clasp the innkeeper’s hands in both of her own. “I promise you, we will find a way to help you.”

“Oh thank you, thank you! You are an angel, miss.”

“Right. Fine. We’ll help you, then. If you wouldn’t mind showing us to our room, now?” Favourite said, standing and pulling Fantine up by the elbow.

***

The two women left at dawn the next morning, needing to use every daylight hour for the journey. After finally exiting the woods, they had reached a dense mountainous region. It was a long and hard hike, and most of the day was gone when they finally saw what looked to be a town some distance away. 

“So this is the town, Favourite? Where the man you know lives?”

“If the map is to be believed, then yes. Though I never said I know him, only that I know of him.”

Fantine looked worried. “But if you don’t know him, how do you know he can help us?”

“Don’t worry, I know him well enough by reputation. I read about him in the paper, and I’ve heard others talk. There’s no one else I can think of who would be better equipped to help us prevail against the devil.”

They were close enough to the town now to see a few distinct buildings. “Alright. Where can we find him?”

Favourite clasped Fantine’s shoulder in one hand and pointed out the silhouette of a church spire outlined against the growing dusk with another. “There.”

***

“Defeating the devil is quite a task,” said the bishop as he placed another log onto the fire. “I hope you’d considered all your options before making this decision.”

“There are no other options,” said Fantine. “I have to do this.”

He nodded. “You’re very brave. And your companion, as well. It’s wonderful to see someone so devoted to another.”

Favourite gulped down the rest of the wine the bishop had given her, looking embarrassed. “Well, defeating the devil will make for a hell of a story to tell one day, anyway. Speaking of hell, you can tell us where to find the entrance, right?”

“Yes, I can,” the bishop said, laughing. “And I can be a greater help than that. You can take as much food and water as you need to get you there, and in addition, some holy water, should something go wrong.”

“Thank you, Your Excellency! This means more to me than I can say,” said Fantine.

“It’s nothing. Now, come with me, I’ll show you the maps I have.”

***

The entrance to hell was dark, cold, and sooty. It was an intricate network of tunnels leading deep underground. The pair had been instructed to walk straight ahead, and not to stop, ignoring every dark branch off the main tunnel. As they ventured further and further in, they were disconcerted by the silence and stillness of it all. Each wondered if something were wrong, for surely hell must be a chaotic place, but neither dared speak up. Finally, in the distance, they heard a faint clicking sound, almost imperceptible at first, but growing louder as they came closer.

As the tunnel made a sharp turn to the left, and the clicking seemed very close by, Favourite and Fantine exchanged a serious look. They knew this must be the final chamber of the tunnel, where the devil made his home. Fantine reached her hand into her bag to grip the vial of holy water, and nodded at Favourite, who had taken a knife from her own bag. They stepped forward into the chamber.

What they saw was not the devil, but instead an old woman on a rocking chair knitting what looked to be the beginning of a sock. She looked as startled to see Favourite and Fantine as they were to see her.

“Who are you?” all three said at once.

After a pause, the old woman answered first. “I’m the devil’s grandmother. What brings you into my home? And carrying weapons, no less!”

Fantine looked about nervously, avoiding eye contact. She was unsure of how to proceed. Thankfully, Favourite jumped in. “We’re two women who have been on a very long journey to get here, for a very good reason. My… companion here will be executed by the king’s order if she doesn’t return with three of your grandson’s hairs.”

The old woman raised her eyebrows. “And what did she do to deserve such a dangerous assignment?”

“Nothing! I’m the king’s bastard daughter, and she was set to marry me, but my father didn’t like that and gave her an impossible task so she could either die along the way or he could kill her when she failed. Judging by some gossip I’ve heard in the capital, there may have been some sort of prophecy involved, but we’re not entirely clear on that. Either way, it’s not her fault.”

The devil’s grandmother nodded. “I know all prophecies, child, this one as well. It would do no good to go against magic that has already been cast. I’ll help you.”

Fantine looked terribly confused, but thanked her profusely anyway.

“Hush, hush, that’s enough. My grandson will be home soon, and you oughtn’t be seen. I’ll turn you into ants, and you can hide in the folds of my skirt, and when he is asleep, you have the power to change yourself back and escape. I’ll pluck his hairs for you.”

With this said, she waved her hand, and it was as she said, and Favourite and Fantine hid in her skirt.

Very soon after, footsteps could be heard approaching the cavern. A wave of intense heat and the smell of burning flesh entered the room before the devil did. Hiding as they were, Favourite and Fantine could not see him when he came in, but heard his voice. It was that of a young man, smooth and rich.

“I smell human flesh.”

“You smell nothing. You always smell human flesh; the scent lingers on you after your day’s work.”

Unsatisfied with this answer, the devil searched every dark corner of the chamber, growing more agitated as he found nothing.

“Stop, stop,” his grandmother scolded him, “I’ve just swept, and you’re upsetting everything. I’ve told you there’s no humans here; how could there be? You’re imagining things, and making a mess besides.”

The devil was unsatisfied with this answer, but relented and sat to take his dinner. Grandmother and grandson ate together in silence. The devil began to drink, and his grandmother brought out more and more bottles of alcohol, until he was quite drunk. He finally stumbled towards his bed as his grandmother followed.

“Here,” she said, “lay your head on my lap as you sleep.”

The devil obliged, and his grandmother ran her fingers through his golden hair as he dozed off. When he looked to be deeply asleep, she plucked one hair from his head. He started awake.

“Grandmother! What was that pain just now?”

“Nothing, nothing,” she said. “I saw a louse, and plucked it out, accidentally taking a hair with it. Go back to sleep.”

He did, and before long, his grandmother plucked another hair.

“Grandmother!” he cried as he awoke. “Have you plucked another hair? What was that?”

“Nothing, nothing,” she said. “Only another louse. Go back to sleep.”

He did, and once more, his grandmother plucked a hair from his head.

“Grandmother! Three times now you’ve awoken me, what is going on?”

“Nothing, nothing,” she assured him. “Nothing at all. Go back to sleep.”

This time, the devil did not believe her, and rose from his bed. “It is not nothing. There are humans in here, I’m sure of it now. They stink up the room. What have you done?” He seized her by the shoulders, pulling her up. Fantine and Favourite tumbled from her skirt, and saw the devil shaking with rage while his grandmother quaked in fear. Unable to bear the sight, and seeing no other options, Fantine transformed back into a human and brandished the vial of holy water at the devil. He lunged to attack her, and she splashed a bit of the water on him. He fell to the ground, howling in pain, a deep burn appearing on his face where the water touched. 

Angry at seeing her grandson hurt, and revoking her agreement to help Fantine, the grandmother made to attack her, but Favourite quickly transformed back into a human and seized the old woman, holding her knife against her throat. She snatched the devil’s hairs from the woman’s pocket, stuffing them into her bag.

“What have you done! Who are you! What do you want from me!” the devil cried from the floor, as Fantine stood above him, still holding the vial of holy water at the ready.

“I don’t want to hurt you any further, only you must do as I say. My companion and I are taking three of your hairs, and we’ll leave.”

“Fine, then! Go!”

“No. That’s not all. There’s an inn in a forest to the north. You cursed it, and I want you to break that curse.”

“Fantine, is there really time for this!” Favourite shouted.

“I’ve never cursed any inn in the north! Just go!”

“You’re lying! You dried up their spring of wine, and killed their tree that bore golden apples, and made their children poor and sick. Undo this!” Fantine stepped closer, threatening him again with the holy water.

“Fine! The hairs have the power to do magic, take them and use them to help the inn. Only now will you go?”

Favourite and Fantine looked at each other, satisfied their demands had been met, and turned to walk backwards out of the cavern, still pointing the knife and the holy water in front of them. They walked slowly at first, and once satisfied the devil and his grandmother would not follow them, ran back through the tunnels as fast as they could.

Once they escaped back above ground, they collapsed onto the ground, out of breath. Favourite lay on her back, looking up at the afternoon sky, and began to laugh giddily. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

Fantine, once she caught her breath, began to giggle as well. “Me neither.” Her laughter grew. “I never thought I was the devil-fighting sort.”

“You didn’t? Imagine how I feel! I figured I’d go to hell one day, but this is not how I thought I’d go about it.”

Fantine shoved Favourite’s shoulder playfully, and lay down beside her. They watched the clouds pass in silence for a while, happy to be alive. Eventually, Favourite spoke up.

“I suppose this means we’ll be married soon.”

Fantine turned to look at her, blushing. “That was what your father said.”

Favourite now looked uneasy. “My father says a lot of things. Is that all that is? Just his words? And perhaps a prophecy, if a few gossiping palace maids I met once are to be believed.”

“Do you not want to marry me? Be honest. When we met, you said you never wanted to be wed. If… if you don’t return my feelings for you, I don’t expect you to do anything you don’t want to. I don’t know of any prophecy, anyway.”

Favourite looked at her incredulously. “Are you joking?” She lifted herself to her arms and held herself over Fantine. “Listen, I know I can be less than clear with my feelings, but Fantine, I went to hell for you.”

Fantine smiled. “And I you.”

They began to laugh slightly again, and leaned in to kiss.

***

The wedding was only a month later. The king had been astonished to see Fantine and his daughter alive, and with the hairs he asked for. He reluctantly upheld his promise, and at Favourite’s request, supplied the wedding party with wine and golden apples from the inn the new brides had stayed at. 

The wedding was resplendent, the brides beautiful and the accommodations magnificent. Though few nobles were in attendance, not even the king himself, the reception was happily filled with many friends and neighbours from the capital and the farmland where Fantine grew up. There were cheers after the vows were said, and everyone present rejoiced at seeing the couple so content and in love. They lived happily ever after.


End file.
